Variable
by Writersblock42
Summary: Bulma gives in to the sexual tension between her and her alien house guest. Set in the three year gap. One Shot.


**I don't own DBZ. There is a smutty(er) version of this over on AO3 (Writersblock42) or Tumblr (Wr1tersblock42) if you'd rather a R18 version.**

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Despite his demanding, uncouth manner, Bulma found herself fascinated by her house guest. If anyone else had pulled the kind of shit Vegeta did on a daily basis they'd have been out on their ass, but with the Saiyan Prince, she usually let his rude attitude slide with only a few sharp comments.

Maybe it was because he wasn't human, despite his physical similarities, but she found herself studying him at every opportunity, mentally taking note of every little titbit she could learn about him and storing it away in her impressive (if she did say so herself) memory. Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, was a mystery who continued to surprise her with each encounter.

Right now, he stood before her, hands balled into fists at his sides, cheeks flushed red, his bare, exceptionally well-defined chest (like, seriously, the man did not have one gram of fat on him) heaving with each furious breath. Bulma had an on-again off-again boyfriend, but she could appreciate a good-looking man when she saw one and Vegeta could make a woman melt like ice cream on a summer's day. Until they got wind of his personality, that is.

"What do you mean, _no_?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"No. N. O. The opposite of yes," Bulma replied, stretching her legs out to rest her combat-styled boots on top of her desk. "I will not build you five more bots. The three you have is enough."

The man's face darkened further, and he stomped towards her. With a sweep of his hand, he knocked her feet off her desk, spun her chair around, and slammed his palms on the desk behind her, trapping her between arms thicker than her legs.

" _No_ is not an acceptable answer," he growled, lifting his lip to reveal a white set of teeth which would have looked identical to a human's if not for the slightly sharper incisors.

Bulma fought the urge to twist her head and bite down on one of the biceps currently encasing her to test how hard they really were. "No," she said again, matching his scowl with one of her own.

Vegeta blinked, confusion flashing over his face before returning to his usual resting angry face. "I could kill you."

"I know." Bulma nodded in agreement. "But you won't." She reached out her forefinger and prodded his left pectoral. Fuck, it was like a rock. A warm, sexy rock. She would have felt guilty for thinking that if Yamcha hadn't ignored her last three messages (which she took to mean they were currently off-again even though she barely remembered the cause of their latest argument), but he had, so yes. Sexy. "You need me."

To her surprise, Vegeta flinched, his gaze dropping to her finger and not returning to her face until she'd withdrawn the offending appendage. The moment contact was broken, he recovered. "I need you to build me more bots. If you aren't helping me with my training, then what good are you?"

The scientist in her wondered if his skin was salty from his recent workout or if that was a human excretion because _Kami above_ he never, ever smelt bad. At the moment, he smelt like damp soil (without the fertiliser) and mown grass, as if he'd been rolling around in the garden, but it was by no means unpleasant. To tell the truth it was alluring, and it took all her mental strength not to lean closer and take a deep breath in.

"You can train with three bots," she said firmly. "I will not make you more unless they break."

Vegeta's muscles tensed further, which should have been impossible, and he leaned in slightly closer. "You are acting like you have a choice in this. You _will_ make me more. Don't think you can hamper my training to prevent me from killing your third-class clown of a friend. I will defeat Kakarot no matter what you do."

" _Hamper_ your training?" Bulma heard her voice raise an octave, but the fury rushing through her was too much to control. She placed both hands on his chest and shoved as she stood up, and what should have been an immovable mountain straightened and stepped backwards. "I've done nothing but help you on your quest to become a Super Saiyan! I've given you a place to stay, food to eat, and access to Earth's best training facilities." They were the same height, she realised even as she chewed him out, meeting his unblinking stare with one of her own. "Don't talk shit about me preventing you from going blonde, when all I'm doing is trying to prevent you from killing yourself by taking on more bots than the gravity room can handle. If you're failing at your "legendary birth right", it's because of _you_ not me."

She clamped her mouth shut at the end of her last sentence, realising even as the words flew out that she may have pushed the Saiyan prince too far this time. He looked stunned, his eyes wide. Bulma knew that her words probably hadn't sunk in and that she really should run because Vegeta was dangerous, she _knew_ that. Implying that a man like him was a failure was suicide, but she found her feet were rooted to the ground.

She could tell the exact moment her remark registered. He blinked slowly, and when his eyes opened again they were filled with fire. He moved so fast all she saw was a blur. One moment she was standing in front of her desk, the next he had her against the wall, one hand against her throat - firm enough to be inescapable without hurting her - while the other gripped her arm. His torso smothered hers and his right leg pushed into her skirt, sliding between her legs, pinning her to the wall in a manner that would have been terrifying… if she'd actually thought he would hurt her.

"Why the fuck do you give a shit if I live or die?" he bellowed, his face contorted into an odd expression of what looked like fury and confusion.

Bulma stared back at him, puzzling over what exactly he meant before finally landing on the fact that he'd completely ignored that she'd implied that he was a failure, and had settled on her admitting she wanted to prevent him from killing himself with her bots.

When she didn't respond, Vegeta's eyebrows narrowed even further. She tried to think of an answer, of something that would make him back off but honestly his mouth was close enough for her to kiss (if he hadn't been holding her neck to the wall), and he smelt really fucking good, and having him this close was so distracting all her thoughts had turned to mush.

"I've put a lot of effort into your training, so you can assist with the androids," she said finally, swallowing hard against his palm - not from fear, but in an effort to push down the warm fluttery feeling she had thanks to his leg pressed against parts that most definitely should _not_ be reacting to her alien house guest. "Why would I want you to die?"

Vegeta sucked in a sharp breath at that, and his tongue shot out and licked his lips. The urge to find out if those lips tasted like a human's was almost irresistible. Not because she had any feelings for him of course, but purely for scientific purposes. Delicious, sinful, scientific purposes…

Vegeta withdrew the hand from her neck slowly, and before she could feel oddly disappointed at the lack of his touch, he slid his hand down to her waist, resting on the skin showing between her skirt and her short t-shirt. "I want those bots," he growled, his hot breath a whisper against her cheek.

"And I want to eat ten blocks of chocolate a day and not get fat, but we can't have it all," Bulma retorted almost automatically as she struggled to look away from his mouth.

"Can't we?"

Bulma finally glanced into his eyes and saw the heady glaze in them and knew that his question was more of an invitation.

His lips were slightly parted, his breath a little heavier than normal… oh yes, he was as curious about her as she was about him.

Bulma lifted her free hand and placed it on his chest, intending to push him away like she had before. This was wrong, so very wrong. A man like him shouldn't be making her feel this way. Forget the fact that he was an alien. He was a _murderer_. He wanted to kill her best friend and would happily destroy Earth and go on his way without thinking twice.

Still… she could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath her palm, and he suddenly seemed so very human. His eyes dilated and nostrils flared as her hand strayed up a little higher, until her fingers danced along his collarbone. Vegeta didn't move, didn't claim as another man would have. He waited, perhaps sensing her indecision, his dark eyes scorching her until she finally slid her hand around the back of his neck and tugged him closer.

His lips met hers with no resistance. They were softer than she'd expected, and they did indeed taste human although she could feel a sparking of energy between them - his ki maybe. When he deepened the kiss, sliding his hand up from her waist to bury itself in her hair and pull them even closer together, the hairs on her arms stood on end and a low moan escaped her throat.

This was so much more than a mere kiss. His teeth dragged over her bottom lip, bruising the flesh, and his tongue tasted hers, gentle but demanding, while his hand found its way to her hair and tugged at her roots, forcing her to submit.

But Bulma Briefs didn't submit to anyone.

She bit down on his lip as hard as she could, a thrill rushing through her as he reared back and the metallic tinge of blood filled her mouth.

Far from looking upset, Vegeta's eyes flashed with pleasure, and he kissed her again, growling into her mouth before pulling back from their rough kiss with a shuddering breath. They remained where they were for a few moments, staring at one another for what somehow felt like both an instant and an eternity all at once.

"I still want those bots." Vegeta said suddenly, stepping away from her so damn casually, as if he hadn't just been ready to jump her moments ago.

"Fuck you." Bulma straightened her skirt and glared at him, but her words didn't contain any real malice – she just couldn't think of a better comeback in her post-kiss haze.

"We can do that later," Vegeta said with a smirk, licking his blood-stained bottom lip. "After I get those bots."

"Not going to happen, buddy."

Vegeta just laughed - the sound of someone who knew they'd won - and left the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Bulma stared at it blankly before sinking into her chair in defeat, her shaky legs unable to keep her standing any longer. _Well, shit_. Now she was going to have to figure out how to make the extra bots and prevent the gravity room from exploding.

After all, any good experiment needed every possibility tested, and there were so very many er… _variables_ , that she wanted to trial with the Saiyan prince.

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I had written half of this ages ago and decided to finally finish it! Let me know what you thoughts. As mentioned at the beginning, there is an R18 version on AO3 and Tumblr.


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